Post-Surgery And The Life I Used to Have.

This is difficult.  Post-surgery for frozen shoulder and minor rotator cuff tear and I'm feeling like hell.    It will take a long time to recover and regain full use of my left arm, and dammit but it hurts to type.  I almost decided to do an audio blog but not enough privacy the last couple of days to do that.  So I'll make this just a quick check-in.

I'm not sleeping, mostly getting up several times a night to move my arm, elbow... to alleviate what pain I can.  This is often a tearful process.  I don't know when the big crash will come, but it will.  A human being simply can't withstand not sleeping like this.  On Wednesday, then on Saturday... things will change and hopefully for the better.

Sleeping on my side after this kind of surgery isn't the best idea, and it creates a world of pain, swelling to an unhealthy level in my arm.  This became the catalyst for ordering one of those Tempur Pedic beds.  NOT the cheapest thing in the world, but a very necessary one at this point as the healing process is going to take a long time.  So be it.  It's adjustable so I can support the back of my legs and have the back of the bed upright to manage sleeping without being on my side.  Saturday, a Laz-boy chair will arrive, and mostly for the same purpose.  As it stands now my options are to sit straight/upright or lay in a flat bed.  Both options mean pain and swelling.  But hey, those recliners are awesome and it's not like it won't be fully enjoyed way beyond the shoulder healing.

I suppose at this point I'm just rambling, but everything I am is consumed with the pain and trying to work past it without taking the powerful pain killers I was given.  The side effects sucks, and that means I'm making damn sure to take them sparingly.  But either way, my point is basically that I'll be dealing with this for a while and probably not making a lot of sense when I post.

There most likely won't be daily entries for a while, but I will try my best.

Post-surgery with all it's unbelievable pain has opened up a part of me that I really would rather leave closed, shut away, and ignored.  That echo chamber of the past and present merging in unsettling ways rumbles below the surface, always, making itself known at the darkest of hours and experiences.  I find myself unsettled---not just my circumstances or thoughts.  In the wee hours, especially when awakened by the almost ceaseless pain, true anxiety sets in and grips me.  Most of the time I can overcome it and get past it's frightening messages.  But then there are times when it takes hold and I find myself incredibly vulnerable and needing a strong, positive presence to jerk me back into a brighter reality.  Things is... I have no such strong, positive presence.  Yeah.
What to do with that.

As you guys know, indifference has been my companion.  T's indifference rears it's true self amidst the pain that really feels as if it's going to rip me apart.  You see, the first part of knowing how to squash pain naturally is to avoid stress at all costs, because stress destroy's the body's own ability to send much-needed pain killers to it's needed location.  Over time, especially in the presence of AI disease and fibromyalgia.... the breakdown of this mechanism is swift and brutal, leaving me without any natural defenses.  This sucks.

I've been brought to tears by the sheer intensity and duration of this pain, and the fibro is in a massive flare-up now, adding wide-spread, diffuse pain to that of the post-surgical.  While it's nothing to brag about, I will admit that I've been brought to my knees by the force of it all, crying so hard I felt as if my head would explode.  Late at night, when it's at its worst T will simply get up, stand there... and say nothing, do nothing, offer nothing.  I've had to tell him it's best he stay away rather than bring that indifference to the already miserable situation.

It is times like this that I long for "home," whatever and wherever that is.  No one to reach out to, to plead to, or talk to.  Not a parent, sibling, or best friend.  No one.  It's only when either by exhaustion or prescription intervention does the pain lessen a little, just enough for my mind to bring forth an image of a healthy, happy, joyful, fulfilled and pain-free me.  When I fall asleep... it sometimes carries me into dreaming, those thoughts.

My arm is in a lot of pain at the moment, so I'm going to sign off.  I hope that each day with willpower and physical therapy.. and even the weaker moments when I allow myself the prescription help to relieve the pain... maybe I'll get stronger, better.  I have 3 days of PT this coming week... and I pray it's the start to real recovery.

I need this pain to stop.  I really do.

Hopefully I can post tomorrow.

PS... I was amazed at how many page views Where Fireflies Dream received.... gave me a smile.

It's About Time.

When I first began blogging it was for one specific reason--venting.  I needed a place where I could get things off my chest that were bothering me so I could get on with life without cumbersome emotions or baggage.  I had ONE blog at that time.  When things got tough, and they often were, I would visit my blog and unload to my heart's content, not giving a single iota to being politically correct or holding back out of some delusion that I somehow had to be 'polite' here.  The venting would ensue, fall upon the screen, and I would be left to bask in the aftermath of some seriously epic purging of thoughts, feelings, and more.  In the end I would usually go back and delete the long-winded and emotionally-charged entries, knowing I could do so now that some time had past.  That blog still exists and I still post in it as often as possible, and I named it "All Things Ephemeral" for a reason, even if that reason no longer exists.  Let me explain....

A few years ago I made the decision to stop deleting the entries.  Being honest with myself I realized that I was deleting so as not to 'hurt feelings' of those I vented about.  No matter that I left off names and details that would give much away to the wrong set of eyes reading, I decided it was somehow 'impolite' to share even my feelings and experiences.  Boy, was that ever stupid.  I'm glad I came to my senses and stopped editing the content over some perceived butthurt it may cause someone else.  But, did I really stop editing my own entries after all?  Well, today I figured it was something worth investigating.

I often come here and stare at the blank screen where bits of my life would fall and wonder... "How can I actually talk about this?"  I know as I write just how much I'm holding back, even when I don't WANT to.  Still, the struggle to set myself free remains just that--a struggle, even today.  Even when I know the healthiest thing I can do for myself is write about it, get it out of my system, it's remains incredibly difficult just the same.

What I want very much to do right now is to take the first step in 'going there,' to talk openly instead of using a string of allusions to piece together a story that, when all is said and done, remains unclear and ill-explained because of that fear below the surface of truth.

A Bold First Step

My next blog entry will be in This Free Spirit, and I tell you this because it will ultimately be the first blog entry in many years where I hold little if nothing back.  With failing health I need all the help I can get to break the bonds of emotional servitude, and the first step is to open myself completely to the idea of 'almost' full disclosure.

Wish me luck....

Dealing. Just dealing.

I've dealt with enough crap this morning to last a lifetime.  Unearthed is the truth, something I'll have to deal with one day at a time, one decision at a time.  After posting in This Free Spirit I've little left to say, as I'm spent emotionally.  Overall, I'm glad to have the benefit of the truth, even if it's not pretty.  Not being one to like my head in the sand I will just face what actually IS, rather than pretend all is well in my world.  It's just the reality of life.

Dealing with health issues, the indifference and lack of compassion from T, seeing a glimmer of what 'could' be once I'm well again... is a lot to process every day.  Maybe not so much for someone healthier, but it certainly is for me.  I suppose I can just say it's keeping me on my toes.

For the most part today I feel betrayed and stuck in a life that I'm not at all fitting into.  I miss MY life but accept that sacrifices are made with a relationship, be it marriage or something else.  The betrayal I refer to is that, once again, I've a situation where I'm with someone who pretended one thing and is actually another.  I don't like that at all.  He's not evil or abusive, so don't get me wrong.  But what he hid and the lies he told DO have an impact on life, especially mine.

For heaven's sake, why can't people just be HONEST about who they are?!

My morning was riddled with anxiety and stress, so I'm paying the price for that today with fatigue, discomfort, elevated pain level.... and just a dull feeling of sadness that is going to take some work to overcome.  It's not depression really, but more like heavy disappointment laced with anger.

My view of life is somewhat distorted as I spend the majority of my time alone.  I'm once again disconnected from the greater part of living--meaning the outside world.  Too sick to get out of the house, and in a place I've not been in but for a short time means... I don't know anyone.  It's a familiar situation, I'm afraid, and it's not my choice but more my circumstances.  But this disconnection does hinder the healing process, which isn't going well at all but actually getting worse.

Another day of dealing with what I already deal with, and also new challenges.

Well... till tomorrow......

Flat-Lined.

It's not as dramatic as it appears.  I'm referring to just feeling down.  I've posted in a couple of other blogs over the past week, but I'm having trouble posting in all of them right now.  Sincerely, I want to.  I do.  But I've been very sick and it's basically kicked my butt for the most part.  Still, I have things I want to talk about, things I would like to talk WITH someone about.  It's not always that easy, though, is it?  The communication process between humans these days has become ridiculously complicated and full of boobytraps.

It's not boredom.  I'm not bored but frustrated that my physical body and my emotional body are at odds.  I'm not living life.  I'm definitely not living MY life.  Anything that resembles 'life' is filtered through T, and that's no life at all.  No one, and I mean no one who has to filter their life through someone else's won't do it for long and will eventually, out of necessity, find a way out so they can breathe again, live again.  It's not a matter of IF but a matter of WHEN---always.

There's not much else I can say to paint a picture that you'd understand to any real degree.  That's not saying you guys aren't intelligent but rather than I'm having a difficult time expressing myself.  It's not you, it's me! lol

I have a friend, however, that I used to speak with quite often, someone who gets me almost intuitively, and I've not spoken to him in a while.  But he's always there when I reach out.  He lives in Atlanta, so it's not like we hang out.  When I speak to him, even via email, I feel 'heard' and respected.  His responses to questions etc are spot-on and given attention as if they're important.  He says.. they are important.  It's the same when he reaches out.  We have a wonderful friendship, unique really, and he's easy to talk to.  I did have another very good friend in CA but... he's lost his way to the occupy movement and has become one of those self-loathing whites who's associated himself with B L M.  I don't speak to him anymore--he's gone quite nuts and isn't even himself anymore.  But my Atlanta friend is exactly who he was when I met him some 14 years ago.

It's wonderful having a friend like that, it really is.  And he says I'm a great friend to him... he's one o the most awesome people I know, so there's love there, always has been.  There is, however, a very real difference between having to speak on the phone or email etc., and actually being able to hug that friend and say hello, etc.  Oh well.  It is what it is.  All I know is that if not for him... the misery would be beyond tolerable.

So what does all this mean?  It means SSDD.  I wish I could say something encouraging, that I'll be right back on track again and posting about more interesting aspects of life and more.  But the truth is, I'm still sick and feeling awful.  All I can do is frequent my blogs when I can and post about what's real.

Hopefully, and with prayer and perseverance, the narrative here will change--soon.

Well. Damn.

If there's anything that I'm NOT afraid of it's doctors and needles.  I don't mind a shot when necessary, and I don't mind blood work or IVs when needed.  However, one thing I discovered today is: I rather NOT okay with giving injections to myself.  And that, unfortunately, is what it's come to... at least right now.

So I saw my Endocrinologist today regarding my lab results for Cushings, Adrenal Fatigue, and... blood sugar issues.  The latter was a big concern because I ended up with Cushing's Syndrome while taking Prednisone, long-term (approximately 3 months).  My allergist stated flat-out that I would be lucky NOT to end up with Type II Diabetes due to my reaction to the Prednisone.  Lovely.  Especially given that my mom and oldest sister both had it (both deceased).

I have other health issues so the drug my doctor wanted me on can't be an option right now.  Lucky me, instead I get an injection... a treatment for Diabetes that's used for PRE-Diabetes/Insulin Resistance--which is where I'm at right now.  Damn.

Serum fasting glucose, Glucose Tolerance Test, AND serum Insulin were taken to assess IF I were in trouble and how badly.  My fasting INSULIN was double what it should have been, my fasting glucose was 111, and at one point... my fasting glucose (in the past few months) was 123.  I had NO idea about that 123 FG.  So here I am having to give myself a lovely injection in my abdomen (skin) once a week for 2 weeks to see if I need to continue that or not, long term, OR... if she's going to put me on another protocol.

The GOOD news is, at least on this one test, my adrenals are perfectly fine and right in the middle of the normal range.  She doesn't completely trust it so wants to test them again in 2 weeks to see where it is.  I also have to have my A1C tested again in a couple of weeks.

It's begun.

I'm NOT looking forward to giving myself an injection, even IF it's an automatic device and pre-loaded.  Just YUCK!!

I have hypOglycemia symptoms and have had those in the past.  I won't explain the process here of what happens BEFORE a person ends up diabetic, etc., because it's more time and energy than I have right now.  But hypOglycemia symptoms suck pretty bad.  Weakness, shaking, fatigue, cold sweats, headaches, etc.  What fun.  However, we're not exactly sure what's causing the chronic pain.  Endo says she also wonders about a myositis situation given the elevated Aldolase on a couple of occasions.  It's not elevated NOW, but I also was on prednisone and Imuran for 3 months, so that took care of any inflammation there might have been in my muscles.. causing muscle breakdown.

I don't know how anyone will ever be able to nail down the cause of the muscle pain after my having been on corticosteroids.  I just don't know.

Well, the pain is pretty severe so am going to sign off for now.  Wish me luck in the morning when I have to give myself my first injection.

The Blandness of Being.

I'm in pain.  A lot of pain.  Trying to think and write here is often too difficult, so... I choose to avoid nonsensical blathering when I can.  But then, I get a few emails or messages on FB asking if I'm okay, why am I not posting, etc.  When this happens I make sure to come here and at least put in an appearance.  As for catching up, well, not sure there's much to catch up on.  But I'll try.

I'm still waiting on lab results regarding my adrenals and blood sugar.  My BP goes very high, then... very low.  No way to treat that, and until we know if my adrenals are struggling we may not know what causes the crazy swings in BP.  It's said that those swings are more dangerous than constantly high BP.  Well, so what?  If you can't do anything about it then why bother worrying?

All there is right now is day by day assessment and trying not to plan anything in advance.  Do you hear the blandness?  I feel it.  I see it.  I live it.

What do I do all day then?  Well, I'm learning Spanish so work on that when I can.  I listen to music, watch Trump rallies, etc. on RSBN.  Well, I use the link from RSBN's web site to the youtube version so I can chat with some friends there and participate.  Not the most glamorous of lives, right?  It's okay... I'm still breathing, so there's that.

Then there's the insomnia.  I believe a lot of the blandness of being right now stems from not being able to sleep well at all.  I desperately need to get the surgery on my shoulder as it hurts badly all night long.  But I have to wait for the results on my adrenals and find out what needs to be done, if any, prior to and during surgery in order to avoid a dangerous adrenal crash while undergoing surgery.  Adrenal Crisis is life-threatening, so the surgeon isn't willing to do the surgery until I get clearance to get it, etc.  Fatigue will absolutely flatten a person out, especially when it's chronic... and... it drains the adrenals.

All in all, the stress has taken its toll.  It took its toll years ago when I was in a BADLY stressful relationship for 11 years.  The relationship was BADLY stressful---as much as the 11 yr one, only condensed into a shorter time frame.  And now it's very stressful but for very different reasons.  T at least is open-minded most of the time to what's needed to avoid the stressful situations.  However, he's not good at all with follow-through, and even in that there is stress.

I pray every day.  I ask God to just shorten this suffering--and yes, it is absolutely suffering.  Anyone who's had chronic pain knows what I'm talking about.  I try and go through my days as normally as I can, find stuff that makes me laugh, smile, or inspires hope.  Motivation is out of reach but at least I can see it in the distance.

For all practical purposes.... this is just life for me at the moment.  I will have a lot of catching up to do when I'm back to full-strength me.....

"You've chosen lessons of pain."

I received a message with this video in it yesterday.  I have no idea who the person is who sent it... but, oddly.. this is one of my favorite songs and one I listen to every night.  Headphones on, dark room, and songs to obliterate the thoughts....

Focus, Please.

Reaching for something to focus on when you don't feel good is probably one of the most frustrating experiences ever.  Well, that is for someone who doesn't have a support system.  With family and/or friends involved, dealing with the known and unknown of chronic illness becomes a little more bearable in that there is always a soft place to fall.  I mean, anyone who deals with autoimmune disease know that falling isn't an option, but an inevitability.  Not accepting that as a fact means being blindsided when it happens.

Nope, I'm choosing to have my eyes open.

That fleeting sense of good health isn't enough to sustain me, and those temporary little flashes of what once was don't occur often enough to sustain me.  This is my new reality, for now, and it leaves me with not much of anything to focus on, anything to sustain me, anything at all to give me that emotional fuel to keep moving forward as quality of life diminish.  Oh, it's not as depressing as it sounds, because I've only just begun treatment and have yet to see where it takes me.

Escape is the only thing I have at the moment.  My methods are at least reasonable, providing me with enough distraction to carry me through the day.

Coffee, which infuses something akin to 'energy' and 'wakefulness' to start my day.
Music, the vessel in which I use to retreat when the weakness is too much.
Reading (Kindle), when I need to turn my mind completely off to what's at hand.
Sleep, which now gives me little respite.

Lack of focus brings the need for escape.

Oh, don't get me wrong.  My every waking day is filled with one real focus in mind, and that's eating right, getting a handle on the Prednisone hunger and other sides, and remembering that I have to get back to me again, to SOME semblance of health.  What I need is what comes with true focus, and that is the driving force that takes us along that path to our ultimate goal.  Without that energy and vitality focus fades and the lines between what I want and what I'm going to get begin to blur.  And trust me, it's not good when this happens.

A few mantras run through my mind every single day, and the dialogue rarely changes.  At times I give in to those random thoughts that this is it, this is the REAL 'New normal' and I can't fix any of it. There are times when I want to give up COMPLETELY and just let whatever happens happen.  There are times when pushing myself so hard to do simple tasks just drains me, and the world shrinks away from this very small space in the world of which I've unwillingly taken up residence.  In those hours, and they are hours, the despair is real, the weakness is real, the waning health is real, the isolation is real, and the realization that I'm NOT in control is very, very real.

And then suddenly denial sidles up, elbows me and says... "Are you sure?"

The only thing I'm sure of is that I'm caught perpetually in that swinging pendulum that smashes against acceptance and denial.  And honestly, I latch onto denial more often than not, and I'm pretty damn sure that's not the smart thing to do.

Confusion in all of this sucks.  It just sucks.

More research.  Continue treatment.  Say the enemy's name and say the words out loud if necessary....

The Invisibility of Being.

Throughout my life I've been pretty thin-skinned, listening to others tell me what I should/shouldn't be, what and how I should think, do, say, dream... developed into an art form for me that damn near reached "Spidey Power" status.  No, seriously.  I would take and wear whatever anyone projected upon me like a shiny pair of Jimmy Choo's.  And trust me when I say that two-sizes too small absolutely made a difference in how I felt and carried myself through life.

Barefoot is better.  Know what happens when you go barefoot the majority of the time?  The soles of your feet get pretty damn tough.  Having grown up poor I had only one pair of shoes (cheap) at a time and wasn't really allowed to wear them outside if I were just playing in the yard, etc.  They had to last until my mom decided we could afford more.  I think I had the toughest feet of anyone I've ever known because of this.  The only thing that really hurt me was if I stepped on glass (which I did a few times, once landing me in the ER to have the glass removed), and when that California asphalt and concrete got hot enough to fry an egg on.  Even so, over time walking barefoot didn't bother me one single bit.

But what about the INSIDE?  Oh, but that was a whole different story altogether.  I couldn't walk my way through through the pain to being 'thick-skinned' and pretty much felt the weight of anything and everything that was said to me.  Criticism became truth, a 'reality' handed to me that I willingly took.  My childhood experiences weren't filled with encouragement or praise nor even helpful criticism.  Indifference and criticism, and many times complete withdrawal of love and affection were the tools used to shape the person I would become.

I was to become the child who survived.

In adulthood, that small child I once was is alive, and though not well, that part of me is AWARE.  There is still a disconnection of who 'that little girl' was and who I am now, and I still see photos of when I was little and feel such pity for 'that little girl.'  Yes, I know it's me, of course.  But the disconnection is still there just the same.  I want SO much to apologize to her and say "I'm sorry I didn't protect you!"

I've accepted this disconnection as a part of who I am, but I don't like it one single bit.  C'est la vie.

I remain thin-skinned, but my reaction to criticism, disrespect, and so forth is very different now.  I've allowed history to repeat itself in relationships I've had, and the reality of this has unprecedented tenure, so it would seem.  It will be with me the rest of my life.  Okay.  I'll just have to work around that when possible, right?

So here I am all grown up and stuff.  I can make decisions, change my mind, and walk away from anyone or anything that threatens my happiness; such are the benefits of being an adult.  Right?  Well, not exactly.  At least not for me.  That subconscious, that inner child, the child I actually WAS at one time so long ago, well.. she has a mind of her own and remembers the pain, the isolation, the indifference, the coldness, the invisibility of being... well, me.

Such memories carry over for the long-haul and map the course of life in often undesirable ways.  But it doesn't always have to be like that.  I can do more to help myself in that respect.  And I do.

On bad days, of which I have far too many these days, that inner child is the one who suffers most.  Sure, I feel the physical pain, and I feel the isolation of my situation and all it invokes (depression, anxiety, etc).  But it's what happens INSIDE that changes my world, my life.  All I can do is anesthetize myself with too much coffee, reading, and way too much television.  My physical body simply refuses to allow much more these days.  That's okay, because eventually the AIH and the 'possible' Myositis, both autoimmune, is driving the bus now, and not even my inner child can rebel against that and affect change.

Sitting here in the quiet, drinking coffee, talking about things I've not talked with a single other human being about...well, but for one therapist for a very short time, I can definitely say I recognize my life as it was, and as it still is; The invisibility of being... me.

Cross-Post Rant Ahead! "I'm DONE"

Trust me when I say... it's taken me from approximately 7:20am to 10:37am JUST to calm down enough to write.  Waking to indifference each day is grating on my nerves and sucking the life out of my life.  I'm not in the greatest of moods at the moment, and I'm not about to pretend I am.  It's been one HELL of a morning... let's just start there, shall we?

Okay, so all of my life I've believed that the old saying "Anything worth doing is worth doing RIGHT" is a damn good foundation for anyone's life.  Half-Assing ANYTHING reveals a lot about a person.  And by 'half-assing" I mean not putting everything you have into what you're doing.  Not to say your "everything" may not be on the same level every day, but putting in 100% of what you can is all anyone can really ask.  And why not?  Why would anyone do anything less than 100%?  When you take shortcuts you leave someone else to make up the difference in distance you weren't willing to go.

NOTE:  As always, unless I'm writing something aimed at someone in particular... the word "You" is used loosely and not meant to point fingers at anyone here.

My health is bad--I've spoken of this a lot in my blogs.  Dealing with one confirmed AI disease (AIH) and going through the paces of confirming a second means.. I'm NOT in remission.  I won't BE in remission for a very long time (I'm told).  The blood work COULD very well improve, the numbers will improve and possibly quickly, but 'remission' is more than numbers.  I won't go into all of that, but suffice it to say every single day is a battle to get through.  So here I am living with someone who, by nature, does ONLY what he can get away with and not a scintilla more.  What does this mean?  It means I have to take up the slack.  I not only have to do what I need and have to do, but I have to take up the slack from what he only does PART-WAY.

Half-Assers are a HUGE pet peeve of mine!

Look, I realize there will be days, times, and situations where you may have to take a short cut or do what you can in that moment.  But I also know that there are things that HAVE to be done correctly, thoroughly.  I mean, you can only short-cut your way through things until you end up with a completely and totally chaotic mess that SOMEONE ELSE will ultimately have to deal with.  Why the hell would you do this to someone, especially someone you claim to "love"?

This morning, like so many mornings (every morning!) I found myself forcing my way through cleaning up after T.  And I mean, cleaning up as in it takes me some 45-hour JUST to pick up the slack of his half-assed whatever.  Have I spoken to him about this?  Of course I have, and 2 years ago, when it really began, I was very calm, loving, and discussed the matter with him in hopes he would see what he was doing.  I mean, he's a grown up, and I'm not his mom.  He can pick up after himself, because he's no Ward Cleaver and doesn't treat me like Joan.  The family of the 1950's and 1960's are GONE.  Marriage and relationships aren't centered around women being in servitude.

Now, women who are treated with respect, treated kindly, appreciated.. will do almost anything for their guys.  It's how we're wired.  We're wired to be caretakers, caregivers, at least most of us.  However, when taken advantage of we often will begin to back off from all those things we once did easily, eagerly, and happily.  When taken for granted... we don't see any reason to continue giving when there's only taking from the other side.

And please, don't confuse this 'give and take' with material things or money, etc.  Because those things don't bring happiness, not ever.  What I'm talking about here is doing one's part in the relationship without placing the blinders on and thinking it's really just all about the other person doing all the work.

I've been in a relationship where everything was dumped solely on my shoulders.  People who know me, who pay attention, find out quickly that I can't be bought.  You can't buy your way out of unhappiness.  You just can't.  Being poor and happy is FAR FAR superior than being well-off and miserable.  Money can't get rid of unhappiness.. I really can't stress that enough.

Doing your part, that's what it's about.  Not placing necessary pressure or expectations on the other person is what it's about.  Respecting the other person's time is what it's about.  And soooooo much more, or course.  But when it comes to half-assing your way through chores because you know the other person will take up the slack for you... that's a sure-fire way to turn that person off, long-term.  And good damn luck getting them to be turned on again.

Being taken advantage of is not good foreplay.
Being taken for granted is not good foreplay.
Doing and not doing things that make the other person's life more difficult.. is not good foreplay.
Being overtly, blatantly lazy isn't sexy.
Indifference isn't sexy.
Ignoring someone isn't sexy.
Not respecting the other person's space, time, and needs isn't sexy, nor is it good foreplay.
Being mean, hateful, abusive.. isn't sexy, and it makes for LOUSY foreplay.

You treat me like shit, I'm going to shut down.
You abuse me, mentally, verbally, or physically.. and I'm going to shut down and NOT be into you.
Take me for granted and I'll stop doing things for you.

It's taken me years to get to this point, and I've been a welcome mat for a couple of people and won't ever allow myself to do that again.  I don't need anyone THAT much.  If I'm treated badly, eventually I won't feel anything at all for you, and you're going to find out that you really just can't un-ring that bell.

You can't buy me or my love.  I'm not for sale.  If you do something you claim is out of kindness or whatever, and you use it against me later.. you've given your true motive away!  Once I SEE you, what and who you REALLY are, I won't be able to see that 'other' person ever again.  Once you blow it, you blow it.

T is lucky in that there's still about 2% hope here.  This morning was just about the final straw, but I fought and worked my way past it, and I'm telling you it was DIFFICULT!  He knew, too.  He knew the moment I pointed out to him what he'd done.  He tried to backpedal, tried to reassure himself that he'd not blown it VIA me.  But what was done was done, and the disingenuous nature of what he did wasn't lost on me at all, and it broke something inside and change, again, the way I see him and feel about him.  Being disingenuous is exactly like lying, and I'm DONE being okay with men who lie to me, either by omission or right-out.  DONE.

That 2% of me that is still open to his finding a solution and fixing the whole disingenuous thing is stretched very thin.  He's running out of time.

Honesty and respect are MORE important than love.  My last relationship taught me that, opened my eyes to the fact that without those first two things.. LOVE CAN'T EXIST!  Love CANNOT exist in the absence of honesty and respect.

Besides struggling through a VERY PAINFUL morning trying to finish half-assed attempts at whatever, I also had to deal with the tuning me out thing, the thing where he pretends to vaguely respond because he knows he didn't hear a thing I just said.  No matter... I don't repeat myself anymore.  I do let him know, however, that I get that he didn't hear me and that all the begging in the world to repeat myself isn't going to make me do so.  After a year or more of this not listening/tuning me out thing.. I've grown intolerant to it.  I've told him that, fine, if he's that disinterested in what I have to say then I'll simply 'tell someone who gives a shit.'  He doesn't like it, but it's no longer about what HE likes and doesn't like anymore.  I've taken the first step in getting MY life back, replacing the disrespect he shows towards me with my own SELF-RESPECT; something I really should've done a long, long time ago.  Better late than never, I say.

So this morning was NOT a good morning.  But I'm going to spend the remainder of my day taking care of myself, focusing on what I can do to help myself heal, and incorporating those things that will protect me from further harm from anyone, especially from the person I'm living with.  Yes, I still have to work through the damage from the past relationship, but that's already underway and will help with my current situation.

Well, that's where I am today.  It will get better, and I will keep persevering... as long as I can.

Random Thoughts at 3am

I had to make that meme above.  I suppose it's just that one goofy part of me (sense of humor) that refuses to buckle under the health issues.  Yeah, I'm just ninja like that.

ANYHOO....Insomnia is a fickle bedfellow these days.  Incredibly unpredictable, I never quite know what it is I'm facing when I get into bed each night.  There's something triggering me to wake up when I go to bed, but I've yet to pinpoint exactly what that is.  Even nodding off on the sofa prior to going to bed doesn't guarantee I'll sleep once I get there, and in fact... it's almost a given now that I'm going to be waiting up, tossing and turning, until the wee hours of the night.  And what does this do besides keep me tired and exhausted?  For one, I get strange dreams, ones I really could've done without.  No, not nightmares... just dreams.  But still...

So it's 2am, 3am.. and stupid, random thoughts pop into my brain, which triggers more thinking, thinking, thinking... blah blah blah.  Damn.  Seriously.  WTH?  Most of it isn't even worth thinking about, I promise.

Okay, so falling back asleep this morning in hopes of getting about 5 hours I had a dream, and one that puzzles the crap out of me.  Well, I suppose most dreams don't make sense, right?  They're usually random babbling and broken intel of things we are either not dealing with, dealing with poorly, or unaware that we need to deal, you know, with those things.  But what about those dreams that aren't as chaotic and confusing?  What about the dreams that leave us thinking.. "Wow. That was so REAL!"  What about THOSE dreams?  You know the kind I'm talking about.

If your dream makes sense, what's the message?  That's the big question, isn't it?

I'm not sure what to make of my dream.  The content, which I'm not wanting to talk about, I think I understand, but my REACTION to it is yet another thing entirely.  It made me sad, seeing what I saw in the dream, though the actual thing happening wasn't a sad thing at all.  So.. wth gives?

Sorry to be vague about the dream itself, but some things are just TOO revealing of my own thoughts and feelings, feelings I'd rather keep to myself.  I'm trusting my instincts on this.  I may actually talk about this stuff in detail at some point, but I prefer to wait until I'm ready.  Hope you guys understand.

The other crazy thing that's happened today, post-dream, is that I feel a little anxious about my future.  It's like I'm being forced to assess what I want and how I plan to go about getting what I want, in terms of my future, happiness, health, and so on.  I don't have the luxury of being on auto-pilot, so introspection and continually assessing where I am and where I'm heading is really important.  T is more of an auto-pilot type, and it's not always easy for someone like me who's trying to take the wheel of my own life to be around someone who's just, well, letting life happen to him.  Not to say that his life is bad, because he's really chill and content most of the time.  I like to see where I'm heading, though, so laying back and riding the current isn't going to work for me right now.  Not sure it will ever work, to tell you the truth.

I wish I knew what my subconscious was trying to tell me.  I have a guess, but I don't LIKE that guess so am keeping an open mind and hoping I'm full of it. ;p

That's a lot of writing for someone who's as tired as I am.  Sheesh....